


Hold Up a Light.

by augusta_brie



Category: World Trigger
Genre: Gen, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 17:02:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1355005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/augusta_brie/pseuds/augusta_brie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arashiyama dances in front of the press like a flame, but they’re not the only ones who find themselves caught unexpectedly by his charm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Up a Light.

**Author's Note:**

> 10 music drabbles challenge. Song – Hold Up A Light, Take That.

Arashiyama dances in front of the press like a flame. Smiles and clenched hands, warmth breathed out on every word. They are drawn to him instinctively, driven by something so deeply primitive that this man – that smile – is embedded into their DNA. They cannot help but respond in kind, taunt mouths curling upwards and doubt dying in eyes that have been drenched first in cynicism.

Kei feels like he is watching a play being acted out in reverse. They are all actors, and they’re performing for Arashiyama. Every attempt to capture Arashiyama in a net of spin and propaganda is met with an honest smile. 

It’s a little odd that Arashiyama dances with the crowds and the press with the same fluidity and humour as he fights. Kei doesn’t want to think about that too deeply, especially as he has all the time in the world for the battle field and none at all for the prattle in silver going on in front of him. 

He has better things to do. So do the reporters, but that has never stopped them from their endless parade of platitudes and questions. 

It’s almost 1pm, and Kei hasn’t had lunch. This would be almost palpable with a packet of chips.

Kei’s mouth tightens as he pushes away from his pillar and steps out of the shadows into the hectic dance. He side-steps one reporter, flits around another. They barely give him a cursory glance. Their attention is elsewhere.

“Arashiyama.” Kei is polite enough, cordial enough. He places a hand on Arashiyama’s elbow and Arashiyama turns into him in a flurry of smiles and surprise.

“Tachikawa!” Arashiyama brushes dark locks away from his eyes with a laugh, shooting a distracted look over his shoulder before zeroing in on Kei with such intensity that Kei is reduced to nothing but a few strands of residual DNA tangled hopelessly together. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

It’s ... startling. Unexpected. Quite frankly, it’s beneath Kei. 

But Arashiyama has such a captivating smile.

“We’re required at headquarters,” Kei says, maybe a little bit flatfooted. He’s never been one for this kind of dance. He’s more of a brunch person. Speaking of... “We’ll pick up some lunch on the way.” 

Arashiyama, unsurprisingly, never misses a beat. It is his song they are all tuned into, so he naturally knows all the right steps.

“Lead the way.”


End file.
